Flawless (Chestnut Springs, #1)(30)

“Yeah.” I scrub at my beard, feeling a little embarrassed by her involvement here, but also relieved. Because I’m tired. Tired of hurting. Tired of knowing my body isn’t keeping up but pretending it’s fine. It’s nice not having to pretend in front of someone.

She saunters back toward me, gathering the body of the shirt up and holding the right side arm hole out to me first as she comes to stand between my knees. I silently put my arm through, lifting it as little as possible, and inhale her scent. She even smells like cherries. Once both arms are through, she steps even closer, legs brushing against my inner thigh as she lifts the neck hole over my head and pulls it down.

All I can hear is the brush of fabric over my ears and the sound of us breathing the same air.

The t-shirt falls over my body, and she gives me a forced closed-lip smile. She brushes my shoulder, as though there’s something there, and then quickly turns away. Almost like she can’t get away from me fast enough.

And who could blame her? I’m sure dressing a grown-ass man wasn’t what she imagined for herself when she went through law school.

“Thank you, Summer.” My voice comes out gravelly in my dry throat.

“Of course. Just doing my job,” she replies, pulling her boots up over toned calves. “You were incredible tonight. You should be very proud of yourself.”

She says it as she walks out, not looking me in the eye. Which is fine, because she’d see how much it bothers me that she’s just doing her job.

Because it does bother me, and I can’t put my finger on why.

The worst part is, it doesn’t bother me enough to stop me from limping over to the bathroom and fucking my hand while thinking about her cherry lips the minute she shuts the door.





12





Rhett





Beau: How’s Summer?

Rhett: Seriously?

Beau: Yeah. Are you being nice to her?

Rhett: Why is everyone so worried about Summer?

Beau: Because you’re a dick and she’s really nice.

Rhett: Oh, yeah. I’m sure it’s her personality you’re after.

Beau: It doesn’t hurt that she seems really smart too.

Rhett: You done here?

Beau: I also really enjoy looking at her, so there’s that. She’s like the total package, ya know?

Rhett: Can you fuck off now?

Beau: Sadly, no. You’re stuck with me forever. Don’t die out there tonight!

Rhett: What if that was the last thing you ever said to me?

Beau: Then I’d think to myself: if only Rhett had listened to my good advice.





I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, scrubbing at my stubbled face with my hands, when I hear a soft knock at the door.

As I march toward the door, I realize that while I’m still tired, I’m not as sore as I was. Though the pain did wake me up at one point in the night, and I got up to take more pills—which Summer had laid out in a row for me.

Seeing them sitting out like that made my chest pinch in a completely new way.

In the same way it does when I swing the door open and see her petite frame standing in the hallway, bundled in a puffy down jacket holding a paper cup of what I’m assuming is coffee in her hand.

“Good morning,” she says flatly, holding one cup out to me. She seems a little tired now that I get a closer look at her.

“You okay?” I ask, holding the door open wide for her to come in.

Summer sighs when she steps across the line and brushes past me toward the desk where her medicinal treatments are laid out. “I’m fine,” she says, counting the pills that she left there. “How are you feeling this morning? You woke up to take a pill? Or have you just had one this morning? You need to take the twelve hour one.”

“Yes, Boss.” I swagger over, having an internal laugh at her fussing over me like this. I one hundred percent get off on it.

After grabbing the pills and the stale glass of water—the one that still tastes a smidge like bourbon—I toss back the medicine while noting the dark smudges beneath her eyes and the way her lashes flutter shut while she takes a deep swig of her coffee like she needs it to survive.

“You look tired.”

She tilts her head and hits me with her most unimpressed look. All wide eyes and pursed lips. “Thank you. How charming. Now lose the shirt and get on your bed.”

I blink slowly as I put together the real meaning behind what she’s saying. “That’s very forward, Summer.”

“Don’t test my patience this morning, Eaton. I need at least three cups of coffee before I can deal with this adorable version of you.”

“It’s alright. I like it when a woman knows what she wants and just asks for it.” I chuckle as I head toward the bed, lowering myself to the edge in the exact spot I sat last night.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” she grumbles as she exchanges her coffee for the two tubes of cream and tosses them onto the bed beside me.

She doesn’t even ask; she just steps up between my legs and reaches for the bottom hem of my shirt before pulling it up. No fanfare, no oohing and aahing like some women have done in the past. Just straight to business.

But I also don’t miss the way her eyes snag on my body as she lifts the shirt up and over my head. She seems generally indifferent toward me, but now and then, I swear something flickers between us.